


You Are My Sunshine

by moonlightShadow56



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Homestuck - Freeform, Humanstuck, Karkat Vantas - Freeform, Sadstuck, kankri vantas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlightShadow56/pseuds/moonlightShadow56
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humanstuck in which Karkat Vantas is a grandma's boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are My Sunshine

You groan, rubbing your eyes and throwing a pillow against the wall before looking over at the clock on the bedside. “Fuck!” You jump out of bed and run to take a shower. It was already seven fifty-two and Gram is supposed to be picking you up at eight. You’re never going to be ready!  


You run to the shower, turning it on and stepping underneath the hot water, soaking it in. You always shower in the dark. It helps you wake up even though most would imagine it’d do quite the opposite.  


You turned the water to a stop, quickly running a towel through your hair and struggling to pull a sweater over your huge fucking head.  
There was a quick knock on the door. “Karkat, grandma is waiting outside. I suggest you don’t keep her waiting.”  


You swing open the door, running past your annoying older brother, grabbing your guitar before nearly tripping down the stairs and running outside. Gram’s waiting outside in her rusty old Chevy. You swear that thing is older than her, but if you said anything she’d go on about how it saved her life when she was young and you’ll have to hear that story for the millionth time. Not that you don’t adore your grandmother’s stories; you just prefer others over that one. You don’t like when she talks about her almost dying.  


You pop the trunk, placing your guitar case in before going up and opening the passenger side door. You take her hand, kissing it and placing it back on her steering wheel like mom had taught you to do when you were little. You still miss mom a lot.  


“Hi Gram.” You say in the loveliest voice you can manage for so early in the morning and tune into the AM radio. Can’t say you don’t enjoy it, the music has rubbed off on you after all these years.  


“Hi sweetie.” She has the cutest little grandmother voice you’d swear it. Your grandmother could be in a Hallmark movie that’s how perfect you think she is. “How’s your brother doing?”  


You groan even though you get a “cut that out or I’ll slap you” look from your grandmother. “He’s still annoying and stupid. So?”  


Your grandmother laughs. “Oh deary, he’s just looking out for you that’s all. Don’t be so harsh on him.”  


You just simply nod, beginning to hum “Going to the Chapel” and tapping your feet. Your grandmother must have heard you because by the time you reach her house you are both laughing trying to sing it in the most ridiculous voices possible. Some of the funniest times with her are during car rides.  


You walk her into the house, sitting down on the sofa with your guitar while she goes to start tea. You warm up a bit and she comes back into the room. She loves to hear you play and sing. And quite frankly she’s the only one that you ever sing for. She always bickers about how you should join the theatre house or choir but you always pull an excuse from your ass. You know she doesn’t believe you one bit.  


You start strumming before you begin playing her favorite song. As soon as you start you see her face light up and you can’t help but smile. You love when she smiles. It reminds you of your mother.  


_“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey.”_  


She starts singing along. She knows the harmonies by heart and it’s beautiful. You remember how mom would teach you and Kankri the song when you were little. It reminds you of her every time you sing it. When you’re done with the song she claps like always, and then goes to get the tea.  


Like usual, you spend the morning sipping tea and watching Judge Judy and Jerry Springer. You remember your grandfather letting you watch that when you were little. Your grandfather was so badass.  


The next couple hours you guys spend cleaning the house. Gram mostly does all the dusting and vacuuming while you do the yard work. Hey, a man in the house is needed for heavy labors. You can't complain though. It’s another excuse for not joining sports in school. And it was a pretty valid excuse may you say so yourself. You have pretty good upper arm strength and a faint six pack from the summer.  


By the end of the night you’re both sitting on the couch looking at pictures from when you were little. She has so many photo albums that it’s insane. “That’s your Uncle Leijon, and your Aunt Maryam, and- Ohhh look! It’s your mother.”  


You smile, slipping the picture out of its case and rubbing your thumb across it. You and Kankri must have been four and seven when that was taken. Everyone looks so happy. Even Dad looks happy.  


Your Gram smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “You and Kankri remind me so much of her. The way Kankri talks, and the way you play the guitar; it’s like she’s still here.”  


You laugh, hugging her back and putting the picture on the table. She puts it in an envelope and lets you take the picture home. You smile and kiss her goodbye before walking outside and crawling into Kankri’s car.  


“How was grandma’s? Is she doing okay? Eating well?” If you don’t give him an answer soon he’ll probably start talking about how she needs her vitamins and sunlight and blahblahblah.  


“Good, she’s fine.” You mumble, playing with the latches of your guitar case. Kankri never plays the radio in the car and it's unsettling to you.  


“Well that’s good. Perhaps I should accompany next time for some tea and chatting; don’t you agree?”  


You chuckle. “She’ll make you do a lot more work than making tea, dipshit.”  


“Language.” He warns.  


“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”  


By the time you get home you’re tired as fuck. You strip to your underwear and slink under the covers; but not before taking the photo out of the envelope and placing it on your bedside.  
******************  


The next morning you feel someone gently nudging you. “Karkat?” You practically hiss at the voice above you. It’s too early on a Sunday for this shit. You crack open your eyes to find Kankri looming over you with a worried expression on his face.  


“What the fuck do you need at six in the fucking morning that’s so fucking important?!” You kick off the blankets, sitting up in bed; knowing if you don’t Kankri will begin lecturing you about how manners are intact “no matter what the time”.  


He sat down on the bed, looking at you with those big red puppy eyes that would always make mom get you two ice cream at the grocery store when you guys were little. “Karkat, something bad happened to grandma. She’s not going to last much longer.”  


By the word “bad” you’re up rushing to put on clothes, not bothering to keep your voice down. “WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED TO HER WHERE IS SHE?!”  


He backs away from the doorway, knowing you’ll be running through it any second. “S-she’s at Prospit Hospit-“  


By the time he finishes the sentence you’re running outside with your guitar case and waving for the first taxi you see. You jump in, handing the cabby a fifty even though the hospitals only a 5 minute drive. “Prospit Hospital. Step on it and you can keep it all.” The cabby nods, getting you to the hospital in record time. You jump out, quickly stopping at the nurse’s desk to get her room number before sprinting to the elevators and nearly taking out a doctor and two nurses.  


You open her door quietly. She's laying motionless and very pale, looking nothing like she did just 8 hours ago. You sit down next to her bed, blinking back some tears before taking her hand in your and kissing it softly. Her eyes flutter open and she gives you a weak smile.  


“Hi sweetie. I’m so happy you’re here.” She squeezes your hand softly and her once bright eyes catch sight of your guitar case strapped to your back. “Oh good, you brought your guitar. Will you please sing for me, Karkat?”  


By now tears are threatening to escape your eyes. You nod quickly, quickly un-doing the case and slowly start strumming the guitar. She smiles. You love when she smiles. It reminds you so much of your mother.  


_“The other night dear, as I was sleeping I dreamt I held you in my arms. When I awoke dear, I was just dreaming. So I held my head and I cried.”_  


She smiles bigger, swiping her thumb to wipe off the tears that are pouring from your eyes and places her hand on your cheek.  


_“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey.”_  


“You’re such a strong boy, Karkat. I’ll tell mom you said hi.” She closes her eyes, her grip on your cheek slowly loosening. The tears are blinding. You keep playing.  


_“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”_  


“Such a good boy.” Her chest heaves up once more before it goes down for the last time. You push your guitar away, taking her hand in both of yours and pressing it to your face, the racks of sobbing spill out uncontrollably. You don’t want to ever let her go.  


_“Please don’t take, my sunshine away.”_


End file.
